His Secret

31. Matías

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

MATíAS

Downstairs, we sign our names on the registration form, walk inside and chat for a few minutes with some people, then slip out the side before it gets started. Like children, we laugh as we make our way through the hall, rounding the corner to a set of escalators, then find ourselves on the main floor.

We’re surrounded by lots of chatter and the sound of slot machines. I wonder if maybe the moment we had earlier was ruined by having to leave the room. Has he had time to rethink everything? Does he have any sort of regret? Maybe the kiss was enough. Something we’ve both been thinking about and wanting to do, and now it’s done.

“So, do you want to eat or?” I ask, leaving the last half of the sentence dangling between us. I’m giving him an out and holding my breath in the process.

He looks me over before glancing around. When he meets my gaze again, he says, “I think we should go upstairs.”

I nod, and we hurry to the elevators.

We aren’t lucky enough to get into one alone, joined by a family of four. We squish into the back where our hands brush against each other.

I let my finger rub against the side of his thigh and watch as he pulls in a deep breath. We only go up a few floors before the family gets off, leaving us alone.

He turns slightly, looking at me as the elevator begins to move. His hand goes to my stomach where two fingers slip between two of the buttons on my shirt.

“I—”

The elevator dings, letting us know we’re coming to a stop. He pulls away and faces forward as a couple walk in. They’re hand-in-hand, giggling about something.

“Hey, how are ya?” the guy asks with a small nod and a smile.

I smile back. “Good. How about you?”

He looks at the girl. “Can’t complain.”

“We’re on our honeymoon,” she says, looking up at her husband with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Congratulations,” Adrian says.

“Thanks,” they say at the same time.

They get off a few floors later, and just as I’m thinking the mood might’ve been ruined again, thanks to the reminder of a married couple that might have Adrian in his head about his own marriage, he reaches over and slips his hand in mine.

Our fingers interlock, and we both stare down at the connection.

I realize now that he’s never had this. Public displays of affection with someone he’s attracted to. In college, we never held hands or kissed or hugged. Not when other people were around. Not in restaurants or movie theaters. He’s never had what that couple has—the ability to show love and affection toward someone without a worry in the world. In plain sight .

I bring his hand up to my mouth where I plant a kiss on the back of his palm.

The doors open up on our floor, and our hands fall apart as we walk down the hall. I slide the key card into the slit and wait for the light to turn green. When I push open the door, I walk inside, but don’t get three steps in before I feel Adrian’s hand clasping around my wrist.

I turn and face him, and we only look at each other for a second before we clash together. We wrap our arms around one another, lips seeking lips. His tongue darts into my mouth, and I suck on it, eliciting a moan from his throat.

His hands run up my back while mine travel lower, touching his ass before I haul him into me.

This kiss isn’t like the other one. It’s not soft or sweet. It’s passionate but in a different way. We’re like two volcanoes on the cusp of eruption. Our bodies vibrate, pleasure rumbling in our throats. We’re volatile—charged with explosive desire that’s been building for years. Everything we’ve ever wanted is right at the surface.

His teeth cut into my lip, and I yank his hair back, exposing his throat. I kiss and lick a path to his ear and his fingers press hard into my back.

I unbutton his shirt while he tries to undo mine, but once I’m finished with his, I yank on the two sides of the dress shirt, making the rest of the buttons pop off and skitter across the floor.

We frantically undress, kicking off shoes and throwing clothes until we’re down to our underwear.

“Come,” I say, taking his hand and rushing to my bedroom.

We come to a stop at the side of the mattress and I take in his mostly naked form. “Your body is still so incredible,” I say, tracing a finger down the center of his abs.

“Yours has changed a bit,” he says with a smirk, his hand curving around my hip.

“I’ve worked out some.”

His smile grows. “Yes, I can see that.”

He comes closer, kissing across my collarbone and down my chest. I put my head back as I thread my fingers in his hair.

Suddenly, he lifts me off the ground, like he used to in college. I was smaller then, but it doesn’t seem to matter now. Without much effort, he has me in his arms before laying me down on the bed.

Adrian is above me, legs on either side of my body as he kisses and touches every piece of exposed flesh.

He’s quiet in his reverence, finally doing something I’m sure he’s thought about millions of times. Not just with me, either, but probably any man. It doesn't even bother me to know he’s had to have thoughts and fantasies of other men. He’s been suppressing himself for so long, unable to do what he knows would bring him pleasure.

This is different for me. I’ve gotten used to being the aggressor, the doer, the one in charge and in control. It’s what I’ve wanted. I’ve kept my emotional distance from people, and part of that is to not allow moments like this. I don’t lay back and let people kiss and do what they want to me. I don’t cuddle and hold hands. I don’t do the things that open the door for emotions and feelings.

But Adrian isn’t just anybody. He’s Adrian. My first love. My first heartbreak. Mine.

The doors have never been closed. Just cracked.